


Double Or Nothing

by CourierNinetyTwo



Series: RWBY Relationship Week 2015 [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team CFVY goes to party at Junior's club and Fox winds up making a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for RWBY Relationship Week since I rolled Fox and the twins.

****The beer tasted terrible.

It was one thing for stout to be dry, but Fox was pretty sure the first sip had turned the inside of his mouth into a Vacuo desert, and every one that followed was only making the problem worse. The tart aftertaste made up for it a little bit, but he couldn’t figure out what was making the brew so damn bad, no matter how long he held a mouthful between his teeth. Usually, his tongue was better than that. Good enough to tell three different kinds of salt apart in the same dish, if he tried.

At least the music wasn’t bad. Heavy on the bass to be sure, but it was steady as a heart pumping pure adrenaline, and just from sound alone, the dancefloor was wild for it. Turning on his Semblance in here was asking for the entire place to be lit up in dozens of moving, twisting halos — a recipe for a headache if there ever was one — so Fox stayed content to face the bar, still trying to mull over the beer. Coco had wandered off somewhere with prime champagne a few minutes ago, and Velvet and Yatsuhashi were having the time of their lives dancing up near the DJ; he didn’t want to interrupt them just to get a review of the entire alcohol shelf.

“You’re new.” The voice came from his left, smoothly washing over the bassline.

“Definitely.” From the right this time, but with a small and hesitant lilt.

Fox had tuned his ear on the Muatovich brothers in freshman year: after quadruplets, anything was easy. “Twins, huh?”

“What was your first clue?” A drawl crept into the last word, on the edge of being offended.

“One of you is wearing bladed heels and the other isn’t, so I know it’s not a single person trying to mess with me.” Fox said, finishing off his glass and biting back a wince. Ugh. “But your voices are almost identical. Pitch, tone, everything but emphasis.”

“Wise guy.” Left side again, the subtle shift of fabric giving away crossed arms and a slanted hip. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to look at a girl’s face.”

Settling his feet on the floor, Fox slowly turned the barstool around, not wanting to knee either of them in the legs. Gesturing with two fingers towards his eyes, he raised a brow. “Not my forte, sorry.”

Muted gasps echoed from both sides, followed by a mutter from the right. “You are so crass, Melanie.”

“I didn’t know!” Melanie’s protest was emphasized with a stomp of her shoe, steel scraping tile. “It’s not like you did either, Miltia.”

Leaning his elbows back against the counter, Fox shrugged. “It’s fine. A lot of people are surprised.”

“Sorry.” Miltia murmured. “To be fair, we did come over here because of your shoulders.”

This time the offended squeak came from Melanie. “I was going to ask him to dance, not gawk at him. You’re the worst.”

“ _Whatever_.” The word rolled off Miltia’s tongue, exaggerated and full. “So, our bad for the rude intro. What’s your name and would you like something to drink? Our treat.”

By some miracle, he kept a flat-out grin from curving his mouth, settling for a small smile; he kept his cool better than Coco — usually. “It’s Fox. And sure, as long as it’s not just whatever I just had.”

“What did you order?” Melanie asked.

“Uh, the house special.” Fox admitted, not sure if it had a brand name. He hoped not, considering the taste.

Miltia let out a sharp  _hht_  of disgust between her teeth. “Junior waters that down to swill. He’s cheap.”

“Is that the bartender?” He hadn’t caught a name, just a voice that rumbled as low as the club’s bass.

“Yeah, and our boss. Technically.” Knuckles rapped hard against the countertop. “Junior!”

“Whatcha want, Mel?” A rag squeaked around some glass after the question before being tossed elsewhere with a wet slap. “I’m busy.”

“You’re cleaning commemorative mugs, Hei.” Miltia countered flatly. “Get our new friend a real drink.  _Míng bái ma?_ ”

“ _Míng bái_ ,” was the chastised reply, and less than a minute later, Fox had his empty cup replaced with a smaller, colder glass.

“You want shots, girls?” Junior asked, popping the cork off something. “Fresh from Mistral.”

“Ooh, vodka. Sure.” The pour was quick and smooth, but Fox felt Melanie brush his arm as she leaned forward to take the drink. “You want one, Miltia?”

“Just one. I already got a mouthful of that Liquid Gold champagne and it hits like a truck.” Miltia tapped his shoulder and Fox tilted his head her way. “You came in with her, didn’t you?”

“Who?” He already had a guess, but it was better to ask.

“Six foot solid, lots of leather. Sunglasses. Flashing enough cash to buy out the bar.” Melanie clicked her tongue. “I probably would have tried to lift some of it if I didn’t catch the gun in her purse.”

Fox laughed. “Oh, you would have had a bad night on your hands there. Coco could kick my ass with one hand tied behind her back.”

“You had a vibe going, though.” The hand on his shoulder moved a bit lower, over the swell of muscle there. “You’re definitely a Beacon boy. Is she your partner?”

“Guilty as charged.” He risked a sip of the new drink, letting out a surprised hum at the taste. Whatever the hell this was, it was a hundred times better. “Girlfriend too, technically.”

“Ouch.” Miltia’s shot glass hit the counter hard as a slap. “I’m not looking for a catfight tonight, Fox.”

“I have two girlfriends and a boyfriend. You’d get a lot more than a catfight.” Another gulp went down his throat, warm and sweet. “But don’t worry, we come to clubs to party. No one’s mad at the end of the night.”

“How about that dance, then?” Melanie asked, then hesitated. “I mean, if—uh—”

“I can dance. Just don’t be too harsh on me, yeah?” Setting down the drink, Fox held out both his hands. “Lead the way.”

The dancefloor was a warm, nameless mass of bodies moving to the beat, but whether it was because of harsh glares or the simple fact of Melanie and Miltia’s presence, Fox felt a sphere of space open around them. Just seconds later, the DJ careened off the trailing notes of one song to the next, building to a driving rhythm that was easy to fall into. Keeping track of which twin was in front of him, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult with a thousand different sounds bouncing off the walls, but after trading off once or twice, he realized Melanie’s hips were about half an inch higher — had to be the heels.

“So if your sister can cut me up with a kick, what do you use?” Fox asked as soon as Miltia slipped in front of him, her body pressing close.

“I’ve got claws to match.” She replied, nails briefly skirting along one of his scars. “They’re behind the counter, though. We’re not really on duty.”

“What she means is that we’re  _always_ on duty,” Melanie murmured from behind, “it just means we can screw around unless Junior has business to handle.”

“Doesn’t sound like your line of work has anything to do with Grimm.” Fox said, suppressing a smile when Miltia ground her hips against him. “Or is that none of my business?”

“Well, if you ever find yourself in need of a bodyguard, security’s our specialty.” Lightly calloused fingers gave his shoulders a tight squeeze. “I doubt it, though.”

“How about a bet?” Fox turned on his heel, pretending not to notice when Melanie’s hands slipped lower and grabbed his ass. “Give you two a chance to give me a go.”

“Oh?” Fingers hooked on the edge of his belt and gave a teasing tug. “I like the sound of that.”

“So do I.” Miltia purred.

“Five hundred Lien says I can take you both down in a fight without taking a scratch.” Fighting could be just like dancing, sometimes. “Two on one.”

“Cute  _and_  confident, mm.” This time Miltia’s nails pressed deeper into his skin, just on the edge of pain. “I hope it’s actually that and not arrogance. Doesn’t look good on anyone.”

“Would take a lot to ruin that face, though.” Melanie quipped, light and amused. “I’m up for it. How about you, Miltia?”

“We can’t use the floor tonight. It’s too busy.” She hummed in thought, still moving her body to the rhythm. “The alley could work. We’ll just kick out the smokers if anyone’s lingering.”

It took everything Fox had to keep a straight face. An alley was perfect, even giving him a bit of an advantage. The smaller the space the better, and any solid wall offered some protection from being flanked front to back. This was going to be fun.

“Show me the door, ladies.” Reaching into his pocket, Fox plucked out a small roll of folded cash. “And don’t try and stiff me, I know each bill by feel.”

“So do we, but that’s because of fakes over the bar.” Miltia said with blatant distaste, taking a step back. “I have to get my claws. Meet you in five, Mel?”

Melanie took him by the arm, leading them off the dancefloor and through a door that creaked with the desperate need for oil. Cool night air hit Fox’s skin and he shivered, goosebumps rising before he rubbed them away.

“Give me a little space, yeah?” Fox asked. As soon as he couldn’t feel her pressing close, Fox let out a breath paired with a hard flick of his wrists. Blades slid out of the thick cuffs, locking into place with the soft ring of steel on steel.

“Do you proposition every girl you meet to a street fight, Fox?” There was no question Melanie’s heels were just as sharp, with the way they scraped on the asphalt. “I mean, I’m not complaining. More fun than playing grab-ass and going home cold.”

“Only if someone catches my interest first.” Fox rolled his shoulders back, getting used to the shift in weight. After a couple of paces back and forth, he knew the width of the alley. It would be a tight fit with the three of them. “Besides, almost everyone likes money.”

“True.” The door screeched open again. “Ready to go, Miltia?”

“Yeah. I took some cash out of the tip jar.” It rustled between her fingers, crisp and new. “It’s ours at the end of the night anyway.”

Melanie tapped her shoe. “So what are the rules?”

“The first one to get a hard hit in wins. Either one of you to me, or vice versa.” He hadn’t walked the length of the alley, but it had some sort of limit. “And this is our battlefield. No spilling out into the parking lot.”

“And what’s a hard hit?” Miltia asked. “A flare of Aura isn’t much to go by.”

“If it brings up bruises or blood, it’s hard.” Fox replied, sliding back into a defensive stance. “But I’d appreciate if you leave off the bone-breaking. Coco would whip my ass into next week.”

“Deal.” It echoed twice.

Counting to three in his head, Fox braced his elbows to block. A second later, he heard them move, dropping his left arm when Melanie hooked that way, ready to meet blade for blade, but Miltia struck first with a hard roundhouse. It nearly collided with his cheek, but he ducked just in time, sweeping a razor-sharp heel out of the way and retreating to the wall. A claw swept under, catching his calf, but Fox lunged forward into a roll to keep it from ripping through, putting himself further down the alley. Something wet soaked into the knee of his trousers and he cringed; there were some disadvantages to fighting outside.

As soon as Fox popped back onto his feet, Miltia was there, hammering him with a flurry of straight punches, trying to crack his guard. One claw slipped under the main blade on his left and Fox wrenched that arm upward, hoping to snag a quick jab to the ribs, but the second she twisted out of his grip, Melanie closed the distance with a high kick. His Semblance activated his in time to catch the angle of her leg, glowing bright, and Fox blocked at the last second, shoving upward to try and knock her off-balance.

They stayed locked there for a long moment, but Miltia recovered too quickly for him to force the standoff by brute strength. She rushed him in two long strides, arms dropping to turn into a quick one-two, but Fox was ready for it.

Rounded knuckles blunted one set of claws, and the other was knocked aside by popping his elbow upward, leaving a prime opening. Fox switched his stance to throw off a counter from Melanie, swinging his other arm up towards Miltia’s face. For a second, he didn’t feel the blow connect, but she hissed in pain, heels clicking against the asphalt when she stumbled back.

The scent of blood hung heavy in the air.

“Lucky.” Miltia panted, but let out a soft laugh. “Okay, that’s not fair. You’re good.”

“Sorry about the face.” Fox said, meaning it. Aura would heal anything that didn’t pierce through or shatter, but that sort of thing still stung like hell.

Melanie let out a deep, steadying breath. “How did you know where you hit?”

“I grazed her earring at the end of the shot.” At least, it had been a piercing of some kind.

“That’s unreal.” She didn’t even try to hide sounding impressed. “Went a bit fast, though. My blood just started pumping.”

“True, that.” Pressing his gauntlets together, Fox flashed a smile in their direction. “Let’s make it a thousand Lien. Either of you get a hit off me before I get _both_  of you out, the money’s yours.”

There was a moment of silence before Miltia spoke up. “I’ll burn a grand for a good time. Win or lose.”

“If this is how you fight, I can’t imagine the rest of your team.” Melanie sighed. “Alright, I’m in for a thousand.”

_Three. Two. One._

This time, Fox went on the offensive. It was a bit reckless, but now that he knew the rough shape of Miltia’s weapon, judging the proper distance to keep was a lot easier — unless it had projectiles he didn’t know about. He got close enough to feel her breathe before his fist was blocked with a hard cross, shaking him to the core with the ear-piercing clang of metal. A quick retreat put him in range of Melanie’s heels, and Fox could scarcely follow the glow before she tried to hook his ankle. It worked.

His back hit the asphalt and Fox rolled on his side, dodging a stomp by centimeters. When his shoulder scraped the wall, he flared both blades outward to keep them from daring too close while getting back to his feet, but Melanie closed the distance in a split second, one heel swiping close enough that Fox heard the sharp edge cut the very end of his hair. No blood, by some measure of luck. Raising a knee to block the second blow, he let gravity take him back to the ground and drove a punch right at the center of the glow.

“Ah—” Melanie choked on the breath forced out of her lungs, staggered. One down.

Stealing the spare seconds where she provided a shield from her sister, Fox scrambled back down an alley, separating the two of them apart when he squinted. Miltia fell into a more defensive stance, inching forward with her arms held tight and close. As soon as they were in range, Fox traded a quick series of blows with her, neither of them landing a shot while jostling for a better angle. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to rise from his skin, and she was damn fast.

In the back of his mind, Fox promised to give Coco a kiss for picking this club tonight.

The win was as much luck as skill. Miltia glanced off the long edge of one blade and the other claw skidded down its length, leaving an opening along her ribs. Fox twisted into a left hook, praying he’d judged the distance right. It landed with a solid thud and a stray claw scraped down his forearm in the same instant, but not deep enough to cut. He let out a breath in the same moment as her gasp of pain, letting his blades collapse back into their cuffs and putting up both palms to signal for peace.

“Damn.” Melanie sighed. “I thought she had you.”

“So did I.” Fox admitted, brushing sweat-slick hair back away from his face.

There was a light pop and Miltia’s groan was one of sheer relief. “I’m going to be feeling that tomorrow, but nice shot.”

“Give him his money.” The tap of bladed heels was light as Melanie approached. “You okay, Miltia?”

“Yeah.” Fox felt a flat fold of bills pressed into his hand. “You should come back sometime, Fox.”

“You think so?” He asked, flashing a smile.

“Well, I’d like a chance to win my money back. That, and another dance.” Miltia quipped.

“Invite your team if you want,” Melanie added, “if looks say anything, they’re a lot of fun too.”

Letting out a laugh, Fox tucked the Lien away. “You have no idea.”


End file.
